A bottle rolls under seats and hits poles and spins forth and back on the floor, over discarded newspapers and candy wrappers. A baby screams and a woman with a hideous laugh inflicts it upon us. 

When I changed to this train a short man with a gray beard tried to push his way past me and he caught a shoulder and almost fell. When I heard the “Fuck you!” I responded the same, in front of a crowd of judging people, and I also offered loud advice about subway etiquette. It is never enough to be right. 

The rolling bottle rolled off the train. Please give me my space so I can want to be around you more. I am not here for the reasons you are here.